


Finite Incantatem

by lq_traintracks (lumosed_quill), traintracks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come play, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Fuckbuddies, Light Bondage, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-29
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-07 03:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lq_traintracks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/traintracks/pseuds/traintracks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quidditch star, Harry Potter; Auror, Draco Malfoy; alcohol.  Is it any wonder they can't keep their <del>hands</del> mouths off each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finite Incantatem

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Blow Job Friday, 2013.

 

What was it about Ministry functions that made Harry Potter so ready to shag him? Draco might never know. He knew he'd never care.

They'd been too inebriated for Apparition, so they'd tumbled through the Floo one at a time, but by the time Draco stumbled into Potter's flat, Potter already had most of his clothes off, except for one dress shoe and sock and his open shirt and tie.

It was a look.

"Leave the tie," Draco instructed, his cock twitching hard.

Draco worked more fastidiously on his own attire. (The shirt alone cost him five hundred and seventy-five Galleons at Gladrags, Paris.) But once Potter was naked except for the Gryffindor-red tie slung 'round his neck, he was on Draco like a fiend, ripping at his trousers, attacking Draco's neck with his mouth, his teeth, getting his hand into Draco's silk shorts, finding what he wanted, and pulling.

"Your mouth has been pissing me off all night," Potter said against Draco's swallowing throat.

"I could say the same," Draco said. Okay, so he sighed it. He couldn't exactly concentrate on being a git when Potter's hand was twisting around his cock just like he knew -- the bloody bastard _knew_ \-- he loved. Potter's ridiculous speech, written by one incredibly verbose and annoying Hermione Granger, though seventeen minutes of pure frustration at the time, was not really bothering Draco overly much at the moment.

"You think I'm just going to suck your filthy cock, Malfoy? Been a while has it? Getting desperate?" Potter spat. It was some very believable spitting. Draco had to give him that. He kept from actually rolling his eyes. It had been exactly eleven days and they both knew it.

Draco shoved him away. "You don't have a bloody clue what I want, Potter." Then he whipped his wand from the holster he was still wearing and took Potter out at the knees.

"Ooof!" Potter grunted as he landed on his own living room floor, right on his shiny little arse.

Draco was on him quickly, flipping him over before he could find his bearings or _Accio_ his own discarded wand.

"Honestly, Potter. You'd think you'd learn to disarm me _before_ you start flinging the insults. Or are you just that out of practice?"

That could have been a laugh muffled into the rug; Draco couldn't be sure.

" _Incarcerous_ ," Draco said and watched Potter's tie bind his wrists together at his lower back.

"Floo home and fuck yourself," Potter seethed.

Draco shoved Potter's legs apart with his own, smirking. He ran his hands up Potter's hairy thighs, the trembling strength in the muscles. Maybe the Ministry really had no business honoring Quidditch stars -- not even Quidditch stars who had once saved the world. That had been Draco's talking point all night to anyone who would listen as he'd gestured haughtily with his champagne flute. But right now? With Potter's legs spread for him, his rock of an arse tilted up for Draco, his cut back and flanks shuddering with want, Draco thought he deserved every trophy they wanted to toss at him. The arrogant ponce was fit as hell and waiting for Draco to use him, and what was a bloody trophy and seventeen minute speech if it won Draco _this_.

Draco might have been the one fighting dark magic these days, but every Auror needed some down time. And Harry Potter, captain of the Falmouth Falcons, was Draco's favorite way to take his.

He squeezed Potter's buttocks hard in his hands and then massaged them, thumbs nearing but not quite brushing over his tiny, furred arsehole. Draco half-entertained fucking the hell out of him, but that wasn't what Draco wanted most this moment, and this wasn't about whatever it was Potter had decided to goad him into.

This was about what Draco had been imagining all night, and he really didn't give a fuck if it was what Potter wanted or not.

"No. We're moving to the bedroom. I need you higher for this," Draco told him -- and then swatted his arse for emphasis.

"Don't you fucking get romantic on me, Malfoy," Potter grunted as he lugged himself off the floor. He took himself to the bedroom just the same, with a contemptuous smirk thrown back at Draco for good measure. Draco prodded him in the back with his wand, but his eyes wandered unchecked down Potter's body as he walked. The sight of Potter's bound hands clenched just above that stellar, flexing arse was almost enough to reduce Draco to wanking as they went. Almost.

"Crawl up there," Draco told him when they'd reached their destination. "I want your face in the sheets and your arse accessible."

Potter whirled on him before Draco knew what was happening, and then Potter's mouth was on his own, opening his own, his tongue delving inside, his head tilting as he snogged Draco deep and long. Against his better judgment -- because his better judgment was fermenting in an inch of wine at the bottom of a Ministry flute -- Draco settled his hands on Potter's slim hips and let himself be snogged. (Rather brilliantly really.)

Draco reached around and caressed Potter's bound wrists, grinding their cocks -- Potter's naked, Draco's barely still clothed -- against one another. Potter groaned into his mouth, and Draco broke the kiss to spin him around once more. He shoved him until Potter was face down, knees spread at the foot of the bed.

Draco licked his lips. "I should just eat your arse until you come," he whispered, palming his own waiting cock and squeezing.

Potter whimpered his agreement, belying his next words which were something along the lines of Draco loving the taste of arse on his pureblood lips. Or something.

Draco ignored it, knelt down, drew Potter's long, heavy cock back between his legs, and started sucking on the head.

"Oh, fucking _Christ_ , Draco," Potter gritted out.

Draco licked the warm salt-slick from Potter's soft slit and then began sucking cock so fervently he was like a calf at the udder.

Potter moaned above him. "Malfoy...God, Malfoy..."

At least he'd gone back to the proper name, the idiot. Nobody broke role faster than Potter getting his fat dick sucked.

"God, like that. Do it hard like that. Use your teeth, you fucking pervert," Potter sighed, his whole body trembling violently.

Draco grunted around his sweaty cock, then sucked off altogether. He'd had enough.

" _Silencio!_ " he shouted.

Potter bucked back ineffectually, completely silent, and Draco guided his cock back toward his mouth again. He swallowed as much as he could and stuck a finger up Potter's dry arse.

Nothing. No sound. Only mad bucking that nearly dislodged his cock even as it drove Draco's finger deeper into himself.

Draco sucked off again and stroked it slowly. "You ever been sucked off from behind like this, Potter? Like you're nothing but an animal?" Draco twisted his finger down into the hot clench of Harry's hole -- because, goddamn it, sometimes he was Harry -- sometimes he was everything. "You ever scream through your orgasm without making a sound?" Draco peered around to see Harry's face contorted in pleasure.

Draco smiled. He held the base of Potter's cock, tickled the slit fast with the tip of his tongue, and then when Potter tossed his head on the bed and banged it down into the mattress a couple of times for good measure, Draco took pity; he took the whole beautiful thing in and hollowed his cheeks around it, working just the tip of his finger in and out.

Harry's whole body rippled for it. His come began filling Draco's mouth. Draco pulled off just long enough to whisper, " _Finite Incantatem_ ," Harry's spunk splashing his lips and cheeks and chin, before he took the cock back into his mouth and swallowed, silent now as Harry Potter's guttural sounds filled the room.

Draco sucked the last out of him and then worked his mouth up, over Harry's empty sac, the hard knot of his perineum, onto his arsehole where he let some of Potter's spunk leak out before Draco pushed in with his tongue and lazily fucked.

Potter could just reach Draco's head with his twitching fingers, and he grabbed Draco's hair hard. Draco hummed into his arsehole, kissing it tenderly and sighing. His own cock throbbed with wanting to fuck.

"Lie down," he murmured, leaving Harry's arse with one last good-bye kiss. Harry moved to lay prone, and Draco untied his bonds without magic, loosening the cheap material and rubbing the blood back into Harry's wrists. "Just hold still," Draco whispered to him, positioning Harry's hands on the pillow beside his head and then laying himself out flat over his sated body. He reached between them and yanked his shorts down just enough, then he slid his cock between Harry's plump cheeks. There was no time. He was going to come. He just needed to come. He just needed this.

Draco rutted there, laying his face against Harry's back and closing his eyes, holding Harry's hips in his hands like he was still the one in control of things.

"Potter..." he whispered. "Fucking Potter..." And then when Harry clenched his buttocks, Draco lost it and orgasmed into Harry's cleft, along his back, rubbing it in with his stomach, smearing it everywhere and whining pathetically.

"That's it," Harry murmured to him as he shot. "That's it, Draco. That's right. Come all over me, you fucking ponce. Love it when you come on me..."

Draco growled and hauled Potter up by the hair, kissing him hard and messy, shoving his tongue deep into Potter's mouth as the last of it roped from his cock and he shook with how hard he was tensed against Potter's body.

Then he shoved his head away and pushed off, rolling over in the bed and running his hands up into his own hair. "Merlin..." he huffed out. He turned his head and looked at Potter, who wore a silly smile. "Fuck you," Draco snorted.

"Fuck you, too," Harry said. "You _Silencioed_ me, you git. That was bloody brilliant."

Draco shrugged like it had been nothing. Like he _Silencioed_ all his boyfr-- his fucks.

Potter sobered. "I suppose I'd better shower."

Draco cleared his throat. He nodded.

"The Floos are going to be totally congested tonight," Potter added, not yet moving to shower.

"Probably," Draco agreed.

They were silent.

Then Draco sighed pratishly, "Is there anything like decent tea in your cupboard, Potter?"

This was code. And Draco waited for the response, holding his breath.

"Half-way decent," Potter allowed.

"Fine then," Draco answered. He began stripping the rest of the way out of his clothes. "The Floos are going to be fucking impossible."

"Yeah," Potter agreed, rising from the bed and grabbing up a bath towel from atop his hamper. The thing was probably not even close to clean. "It's cool," Potter went on. "If you want to...you know..."

"Yeah, all right," Draco replied, careful not to sound relieved. In fact, he went for inconvenienced.

Potter nodded and headed off to the loo.

Draco breathed a sigh, listening to the water turn on. He closed his eyes, just listening.


End file.
